Telling a fairytale
by Rycitia
Summary: Ludwig KakumeiLudwig Revolution fic. Inofficial bits of Will's mind during Blanche Neige slash.


A great deal of things indicate, as always in Yuki's works, certain slashy connections, and Ludwig Kakumei/Revolution is no exception. In order to confirm my suspicions I reread the manga with full force concentration on Lui/Will-hints, imaging what could have happened before, during, after specific scenes (hell, the opening alone got into me...just let your fantasy play). I mixed this into a fanfiction, emphasising Will's PoV, because you don't get much of his mind in the manga. Will might be a bit OoC at times, while I think Lui is not. You know what I mean.

Nothing belongs to me, except the bits I squished in between the original scenes.

**

* * *

**

**Telling A Fairytale**

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Prince in a beautiful castle, surrounded by beautiful maidens and financically supported by his not-so-beautiful father, (the king, of cousre, since he himself was the Prince) who was extremely bored and fed up with his life as a Prince. In order to lighten it up a bit, he had women on end, none of them complained, of course – 1st, he was the _Prince_, and 2nd, half of them were dead. And in order to lighten it up even more, he nursed a cute pet to let out his sadistic traces. And this adorable, obidient, and not to mention extremely poor pet is _me_.  
I was the one to get the toys out of the alligator pond when he was little, I had to carry many a women out of his room when he was fast asleep after fucking them (and they were screaming and scratching and kickting, and _who_ got all the bruises?), I was to clean all his strange, frightening and sickeningly bloody torture instruments….did I get my point across?  
Now, anyone in his right mind would _hate_ such a master. Problem is, I do not.  
I'm sure that, if I didn't have some dominat masocistic streak in me in the first place, he implanted it into me.

Tasks described above are of course only of minor concern. Things get really interesting when it comes to finding the clothes fitting exactly his mood of the day (all the others who attempted were to scratch off the wall afterwards), not mixing up the _lilac_ and the _dark-lilac _nail polish, keeping his father off him (and vince versa) when he was in a bad mood, and other highly delicate tasks like these.

Of course, Prince Lui never thanked me – that he never let anyone else get even close to his sacred clothings cupboard was proof enough of him trusting me. Well, trust is the wrong word. More like, appreciating my work. And, this is also not to be underestimated, he might have had more bedmates than his mother in her best days, but never the same one twice. Except for a certain easily-abusable stableman, and that wants to mean a lot.

Quite often, when he's done with various anonymous women and occasionally men, he'd order me to stay a little longer – to either drink something, slander about the world in general and his father specifically, or to have my tidy clothes ruined in the most brutal way. Not that I complain, mind you. But in the mornings, I am a bit put off by the thought of having to sew my shirt together again. I should ask him for a pay raise, just to afford my clothing. _He_'s the one who destroys it, anyway.

So that's the way it goes. Well, that _was_ the way it _went_, until that fine morning the king rampaged the castle at about 11 a.m. (what an ungodly hour for an exhausted servant), sreaming the whole population in a miles rage deaf, demanding to see the Prince this very minute. Lui was almost grumpier than me, in his opinion no one had the right to wake him up before lunch. But knowing that his father could be a very penetrate royal pain in the ass, he sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes (mentally, I already calculated the amount of make up he'd demand later to cover the sleeping bags under his eyes), pulled the curtains away and demanded ever so arrogantly with that I-have-to-surrender-to-higher-forces-voice, "Father's upset me again….so bring my clothings already, Wilhelm!"  
I moaned, got out of bed, quickly gathered a pair of leather pants and a white shirt, helped him put it on (don't question me why he never bothers to wear underwear….quess undressing is even faster that way), pulled his hair into a loose ponytail and barely had time to put on my own stuff, then I hurried after him.

His father was bound to be up to something really drastic, otherwise he'd at least have waited until Lui woke up on his own accord. I heard them arguring from afar – Lui complaining about having to listen to his fathers coplains so early in the morning and the king screeching at him for his affairs, lack of self-discipline, god knows what.  
Nothing unusual, since that happened at least twice a week, only when it came to the point of some servant throwing some suitcase in front of the prince I got suspicious. He wouldn't send him away, not his…….  
"You're going to go on a journey, did you hear me? To the neigbouring kingdom, and you're going to propose to Princess Blanche! This is a great opportunity, we could enlargen our kingdom and you'd have a wife, so…." I tried to pipe up, sensing the princes anger about this decision. No one knows better than me what Lui thinks about marriage. Plus, I myself felt greatly uncomfortable about it.  
If the Prince was to travel, some servant had to come along. And who would be picked? Me, of course. And being with Lui always led into trouble somehow.

Next thing I know, I was swept off my feet, given an order to prepare the horses and on our way to Princess Blanche. Am I not too young to die!

I'm used to my Prince's preferences. I'm used to having to pick out the fullest-breasted women in etablissements for him. But I'm _not_ used to having specifically interogate informants about the bra size of a missing Princess.  
Fact is, we accidentically stumbled over Princess Blanche. And I have to admit, I did not like her on first sight. She was breathtakingly beautiful, point taken, but _something_ just made me dislike her. Probably the fact that she was soundly asleep. And would not wake up. You learn to get very suspicipus when living with a unpredictable master, and a cronically dozing princess let all the warning lights in my head go off at a very fast pace. Probably the fact that she was going to marry the Prince. I don't consider jealousy one of my characteristics, but somehow, in this case it was inflamed. _Or_ it was the fact that I had to carry both her _and_ Lui's weighty suitcases up the hill towards the castle.

Naturally, I collapsed. The punch I landed on her back was not too accidental, admitted. But hell, I had to overwork my young body because of a dead woman who was going to be Prince Lui's offical bedmate, and please excuse me if I didn't harbour the most friendly feelings for her.  
Ich bin ein Teil von jener Kraft, die stets das Böse will und doch das Gute schafft. I'm a part of the power that always desires the evil and still froms the good. My little punch onto her back seemed to have triggered something fundamental, for she popped her big eyes open, stared at Lui who she happened to land on (I felt horrible…really, really horrible.) and thus, said engagement was fixed and confirmed in this very moment. I love my abillity to make bad things worse. For myself, I mean.

When we came home, things didn't change. This I only mention because I _expected_ them to be turned upside down. And, as I already stated, they didn't. Well, not greatly.  
That Princess was constantly around, with a flock of notoriously cocky men dragging behind her, the king was in higher spirtis for a change, Prince Lui didn't seem to care too much about either, and my clothes didn't face any improved treatement.

I'm neither deaf nor blind. And I would have to have been at least both plus dump to _not _notice what was going on during nights when I was not occupied. The king usually had plenty of nocturne visits – I just don't know how customary it is for the bride-to-be to regulary share the bed with her father-in-law-to-be.

I know that you should never underestimate Prince Lui. He notices everything, hears everything, uses everything to his advantage. So I kind of anticipated his revenge on that little princess. Revenge I say, because Prince Lui had me find out information about her – and what I found was enough to not only reintroduce death penalty, but also to take her as a generous wink to _never ever _trust any beautiful Princess in any fairytale of any kind, because usually, they're up to not good. They are evil, did you hear me?

About a month after the princess' mother's vistit (and mysterious dissapearence of said) Lui sent for a glass of wine, which had to be specifically delivered by me. Not that I don't know what that means. I was barely able to place the plate on the little side table before being attacked.  
Afterwards I was finally able to hand over the reason I came for, the glass of wine was lazily accepted. Lui was musing, and damn, he's good at awakening curiosity. "So, what did you call me for, Prince?"  
He smiled that predatory smile, that tells you _there's danger right around the corner and I'm going to ensure personaly_ _that you tap right into it. _"I want to get this fairytale a happy ending."

Don't ask me why he told me his plans. Probably to set up the big mirror he needed for his scenery to work out. The rest of the play I was offstage, only when the part of the castle where he kept all his creepy corpses burned up in flames I did get a bit anxious. The part about killing the offending princess wasn't going to cause any problems, but did he have to incite half of the castle?  
He was currently standing facing said merrily burning housing, and I just had to wonder, did it not bother him the least to sacrifice all this beloved mummies?  
Interrupting my musings, he announced (almost surrendering, but defenitely annoyed) that we'd be on our journey again.  
I was suddenly reminded of him being the most beautiful prince off all, exceeding princess Blanche double time. Ususally, there's something defenitely majestic about him, but seldom it was so clear to me. Don't consider me soft and easy to impress, but sometimes it just gets into me and I feel bound to used the full honorfic. God knows he doesn't bother the least if I don't adress him correctly all the time (least in bed, mind you), but when I do, I cannot deny being moved myself.  
"Yes, Lui….I mean, Prince Ludwig."

Seems I'm fated to travel for a little longer.

* * *

The german line is a quote from Faust I, by Johann Wolfgang von Goehte, and it's german because it has such a beautiful rythm to it. I fyou already spent time reading my ff, you could afford a little more time on writing a short review, that would be very nice. 


End file.
